70. Antonio

The flight from Marrakesh to Porto took less than two hours. The weather was a bear, and we only got out by some miracle. I have a quick stop to make at the lodge and then I’m going to Quinta Rosa do Vale to make things right with Daniela.

I’ll beg if I have to, but I won’t force her to come home with me. If she needs time, I’ll give it to her. If she says no, I’ll respect her decision. No. I won’t do that, but I will work day and night to get her back. No matter the cost. She’s mine. Like I’m hers.

Will calls while I’m in the elevator. “Hey,” I say, answering. “Thanks for your help.”

“I didn’t call for your thanks,” he replies, brushing me off. “This was my problem, too. I called because Nikitin finally copped to planting the bomb on the plane, but I’m not convinced.”

My jaw tightens. “Why not?”

“He wanted it over. But he couldn’t provide enough information to satisfy my people that he did it.”

“He probably didn’t actually plant the bomb. We never thought that. He paid off someone.”

“That’s what he claimed. Pointed to a British national who I’ve had some disagreements with from time to time.”

I feel the stress leave my shoulders.

The bomb appears to have been Will’s problem. My mother was collateral damage. It doesn’t make me feel any better. She’s still dead.

“That’s why it always felt like there was more than one bad actor,” I muse aloud.

“We haven’t checked out that theory yet. It could be the bullshit of a man being tortured.”

It’s always a risk, but Nikitin was involved in a lot of the shit that’s happened. We know that for certain.

“Let me know what you find,” I mutter, hanging up. Until I know more, I’m not letting Will’s conjecture ruin my plans with Daniela.

When I enter the villa, Cristiano’s on the phone, and from his expression, it’s something serious. I can never catch a fucking break.

He’s ashen, as he holds the phone out to me. “It’s Tavares. Daniela’s been abducted.”

“What?” I bark, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him while my entire reason for being implodes. It would hurt less if someone yanked my beating heart out of my chest.

But there’s no time to writhe in pain. Not with Daniela in danger.